


Dumpster Club (bros only)

by buttdog



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: ???? - Freeform, Everybody Loves Bucky, Fluff and Humor, bro meme, bucky may or may not be ok, clint is clint, hawkeye and thw winter soldier in the dumpster bein bros, just a thing i was thinking about, just kidding, or am i ??????, or there trying to, other avengers will appear, thor and clint are yoga bros
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 21:28:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3952396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttdog/pseuds/buttdog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You know, it's kinda cute we ended up in the same dumpster."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> dear lord idk what this is. its just something ive been writing in my head for a while now so i thought why not type it up at 4am when im tryna do this fuckin essay god damn. FUCK
> 
> enjoy and if u like leave a lil kudo cause thats cute and i REALLY appreciate

"You know, it's kinda cute we ended up in the same dumpster."

Bucky growled. Not only did he have freaking Hawkeye squatting atop him, there was also several varieties of garbage cushioning him from all sides, and of course something cold was leaking into the crotch of his pants, and Steve was in a mood with him, and now that he was listing every issue with his life, he had just pissed off Clint's tracksuit clad friends of which he did by COMPLETE ACCIDENT. One time he'd helped Clint! One damn time, and now it seemed whenever he stepped foot into Bed Stuy, he'd end up in whatever dumpster Clint had named, like it's totally fine that a grown man had nicknamed large metal boxes filled with disgusting trash because he ended up in them so often. Bucky looked up at the archer, who grinned when they met eyes. Was this guy even a real person? 

"It's far from cute." he bit back, his metal arm grinding as he clenched his hand into a fist. Clint appeared puzzled for a moment, raising the hand that was splayed over Bucky's chest to his right ear and fussing with it. Bucky's brow furrowed. "What are you doing?" 

Clint didn't reply for a beat. "I think I busted my right hearing aid. Also I have a concussion, well, I think I do." The archer's upper lip twitched as he spoke of his hearing aid, but failed to do so when he announced his injury. People had weird priorities, Bucky figured. 

"Something wet is touching my dick." Bucky countered, deciding this was his top priority as of right now. 

"Gross." Clint made a sour face, which quickly transitioned into a beaming smile. God, this guy was weird. Bucky watched Clint begin to wriggle his way out of his infectious prison, feeling a little relieved when the lid creaked open and natural light flooded into to the dark space, as well the damp air being replaced with slightly fresher city air. Clint stretched obnoxiously loud, grabbed his bow from where it lay by Bucky's arm and hopped out of the metal can. Bucky followed immediately, trying to ignore the fact he was probably lying in many types of bodily fluids. "Ah," Clint smiled, "back into the polluted air of New York City!" 

Bucky rolled his eyes, arms folding over his chest. Clint slouched at his unamused reaction, and then his eyes widened severely, and he buckled over in a fit of laughter while pointing a calloused finger at Bucky's crotch. Which was wet, in a manner that made it look as if he'd had an accident. Bucky gawked, poking the soaked area with his finger. Clint, who had been quietening into a wheeze, crowed even louder, falling back on to his ass without a care. "This isn't funny." Bucky barked, his distressed expression betraying the anger in his voice. 

"I know! I'm sorry!" Clint giggled, covering his mouth in an attempt to muffle his screams. "It's just-" laughter "you look like!-" wheezing, choking "you've pe-" laughing, wheezing, choking "pe-ed your!-" Bucky tackled him, easily over powering Clint, who couldn't even look at him without dissolving into another fit of strangled laughs. Bucky growled, for the second time in five minutes, and then proceeded to press the joint of his knee into Clint's throat. The archer sobered considerably, an arrow set in his bowstring much faster than Bucky thought possible. He was sort of impressed, but not, at the same time. 

"Laugh again, I'll kill you." Bucky threatened, straightening up. Clint's face broke into a smile but his lips were pressed together, sealed. He wiped the wetness from his eyes and heaved himself back on his feet, slotting the arrow back in his quiver in one swift movement. 

"Sorry." he said. 

Bucky glared back down at the offending stain, standing out black against the slate grey of his combat pants. Now that he'd gotten Clint to shut his fucking mouth, he had more important matters to handle. "I can't walk home like this." he sighed, looking out in to the busy streets beyond the alley way they'd been dumped in (LITERALLY). 

"This is my apartment." Clint smirked, patting the brick wall behind him, almost fondly. 

"Oh." Bucky mumbled. He'd only ever been to Clint's home once and it had been the dead of night at that point, and he hadn't actually entered but instead just stared into the window to check if Steve was there. He had been, sleeping on Clint's too small sofa. He frowned. That had been during the days before he let Steve find him. 

"Lez'go." Clint said, hooking the fire escape ladder with the end of his bow. It slid down easily, and Clint started to climb. 

Bucky followed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, so i wrote for this again. also i wasnt sleep deprived for this chapter so win win. 
> 
> and now i defo wanna continue it!! so yay!! :)

Clint's apartment was, well, just as messy as the night he'd been watching Steve through the window while wondering how the blonde could fall asleep surrounded by dirty _things_ and also manage to look relatively peaceful when there was a dog snoring loud in the corner, just to add to the charade. Said dog was now yelping repeatedly at Clint, bouncing on it's hind legs, slobber dripping from it's lolling tongue with each bound. It was remarkably adorable, but sort of repulsive. Aside from Natasha's timid cat, he wasn't a big fan of house pets and probably never would be. They were unnecessary. And more often than not, annoying. House pet's were always a hinder to his missions, back when he was just the Soldier and not Bucky. He'd hated them then, he hated them now. But of course, the minute Clint propped his bow up on it's hook, he'd bent down to embrace the dog, letting it lick over every possible inch of his face while rewarding it by rubbing his palms over it's back. Obviously enjoying itself, it rolled onto it's back, near about knocking Clint out with the strength of it's wagging tail, which didn't bother the man at all and instead made him coo even more. " _Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy?_ " Clint sounded absolutely ridiculous. The dog barked demandingly, and Clint obliged by scratching it's belly. Clearly, this mutt must've put all his trust in Clint, exposing it's soft parts like that.

Lucky whined as Clint stood, giving him one last pet before turning his attention back to Bucky, who was staring blankly. "I'll get you a pair of joggers." He said, disappearing up the stairs.

"Ok." He sat down on the couch, stroking the throw blanket with his metal fingers. Light from the window reflected off them, casting a beam of light on the opposite wall. Bucky jerked when Lucky sprung to his feet, leaping for the light spot he had created. Bucky shifted his fingers, letting the light dance. Lucky attempted to follow it, jumping back and forth and growling at his opponent. It was amusing, or as amusing as a dog being stupid could be.

Clint returned with a white tee and gray sweatpants. "I don't need a tee shirt." Bucky remarked.

"You can't wear sweatpants and a leather jacket. That's a fashion crime and I don't want to be associated."

Bucky fumbled for an answer to that. Clint really was a piece of work. Bucky fled into the bathroom, slamming the door in the mutts face as it trailed after him. Immediately, he heard Clint apologising to the dog in high pitched tones.

It was nice to get his leather jacket off. Clint was a colleague so he wouldn't freak about the arm, which was always a nice feeling, knowing someone wasn't going to faint at the sight of it. When he came back out, he draped his clothes over the arm of the couch and stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. The coffee jug was gurgling as it heated. "Beautiful." Clint said, giving him a thumbs up. The dog barked happily at him, clearly no hard feelings for the door-in-face incident mere moments ago. "Be quiet, Lucky." Clint scolded, which prompted another bark.

"He isn't trained." Bucky commented. Clint shrugged.

"He's a cool dude, give him a chance. Steve didn't like him much at first and now he moderately likes him." Clint clapped the dog affectionately. Bucky was still a little baffled. Hawkeye was an agent, or former agent, and an Avenger. Having ties to anyone was a dangerous deal, even pets, and Clint evidently loved this animal. The dog wouldn't do much damage to anyone, especially the types Clint had fought and would fight, so he obviously wasn't there to protect Clint, so there must've been some unknown ulterior motive earning his keep.

"Why do you keep him?" He asked, watching Clint as he itched behind it's ear.

"Something normal, I guess. Good company." Is all Clint managed to say, before someone rattled their fist off the door in an uncontrolled rhythm. Lucky barked, and Bucky cursed inwardly, the dog had just gave them away.

"Clinton!" Bucky deflated at Thor's booming voice. However, there were other people on the other side of the door to, smaller ones, children, he could hear their mumbling voices as they tripped over their words.

Clint went to open the door, snickering as he did so. A horde of little bodies of all different sizes and color bunched around Thor's prominently large form, looking more like a giant than he usually did amongst them.

"I cannot get these children to free me." Thor said. Clint's laugh was warm as he slapped Thor affectionately on the shoulder.

"What'd I tell ya kids? You do this every time he comes here!" Clint's stern tone of voice was poorly, and the crowd of kids immediately burst into several shouts of protest, there attention turned away from the Thunder God, allowing him to slip into the apartment without much more bother.

"We just wanted to say _hewwo_!" One kid screamed, struggling with his speech impediment.

"You can say _hewwo_ later George!" Clint said, and closed the door. Even Bucky thought that was a little harsh. Children were difficult, very much so from what he'd seen, but their encounters with the world were mostly innocent and fresh, and they were eager despite everything and deserved to be treated well before reality would inevitably swallow them up in a couple of years. He didn't say anything, though.

"Lucky!" Thor grinned, replicating the image Clint had created when they'd first arrived with the dog. He glanced up at Bucky after a beat. "Bucky!" He added.

"Hi, Thor."

"Have you come to join our yoga class?" Thor said, good naturedly. Bucky took in the strangeness of Thor's attire, which was a stretch for a man who wore a cape on a daily basis. He was wearing those sporty leggings that Steve adored ("Jesus, Cap! You can't go shoving your dick in people's faces!" "Well why are you on the floor Tony?!" "Why are _you_ wearing leggings?!") and a tight, luminescent pink top that read ' _You're on my To Do List_ ' in big, bold letters. He's pretty sure Clint got that for Natasha as a joke for Christmas last year.

"Uh, no-"

"That's a great idea!" Clint exclaimed, putting the coffee pot back on it's holder and wiping away the coffee where it'd dribbled down his chin. Thor nodded in agreement, taking a bite of the apple Bucky hadn't even seen in his big hands. Huh.

"How is _that_ a great idea?" Bucky snapped, crossing his arms.

"Yoga's relaxing! And it's good for you. Imagine Cap's face if you told him you went to fucking yoga!" Clint replied. Bucky gave it thought.

Steve would be pretty happy if he actually did something productive. Not that patrolling the city wasn't productive (to Bucky, anyway), but Steve had been wanting him to get out more, especially recently, now that Steve had found a new interest in Agent, no, former Agent Hill. Bucky (and Natasha) had been the only ones not surprised when Steve announced that he was 'sorta dating' Stark Industries Human Resources Manager. The minute Bucky had properly met Maria, he'd known it was only a matter of time before she accumulated Steve's affections. See, Steve Rogers had a type. Brunette, beautiful, capable, handy with a gun, witty, dashingly independent. Even a lot of the super soldier's friends almost hit the bill ( **see:** Bucky, Sam, Tony).

Maybe he should go to yoga. Then, Steve wouldn't be in a grump with him, him and Hill could get freaky without Bucky lingering around like a needy cat, and everything would be in order (or as close to order as his life ever got).

"Okay." Both men beamed at his answer.

"Great!" Clint gave him another thumbs up. "Lemme go get changed and we can go."

"It joys me you have chosen to come along, Bucky. Perhaps, if you like the activity, you can join us for our weekly attendance!" Thor was grinning like mad, discarding the apple core in the bin before leaning back against the counter. Lucky was circling around his feet, feeding off of Thor's radiant happiness. Bucky allowed a small smile to grace his face.

"Maybe." He replied, and Clint rejoined them once more. He was wearing leggings also, but his top failed to match the greatness of Thor's, just a plane ole black tee.

Clint looked at him. "You want some leggings, bro?"

Bucky shook his head. "I'm okay with sweats."

"If you say so."

Clint and Thor shared a look, Thor shrugging at Clint's raised eyebrow. Clearly, they were just as defensive of the leggings as Steve was. Sometimes, Bucky was marveled by the 21st century. "We should hurry, we don't want to delay the class." Thor said, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl.

Clint said goodbye to Lucky like he was never going to see him again, and off they were.

_Since when did Barton have a fruit bowl?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if u liked, leave a lil kudo!! its very appreciated !!!:)

**Author's Note:**

> i might continue this if u guys like it
> 
> if u didnt like it then i feel the same
> 
> gbye thx for readin


End file.
